


It's not cool

by leoraine



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-12
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoraine/pseuds/leoraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Showdown and Safe. The missing conversation between Danny and Martin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not cool

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This fic is un-betaed. It was also written based purely on transcripts and spoilers for Showdown and Safe, so not all the details will be accurate.

The case was finished and so was Martin. He had enough for one day - his side hurt, and even though he wouldn´t tell it to anyone, he started feeling a little woozy. It was time to go home and to bed, Martin thought and with grimace grabbed his cane.

"See you tomorrow," he waved at Sam, who was still on the phone. She frowned, probably wanting to drive him home or at least ask why is he leaving so soon. But whomever was on the other side asked a question and Sam looked away, back to the phone. Martin meanwhile slowly walked to the elevator, his limp markable. He pushed at the button nervously, not wanting to face some other colleagues. They were all great, caring and all that stuff, but by the end of the day, Martin felt stiffled. As if they were robbing him off of his rare energy. Now they care looked more like pity and it didn´t take much for Martin to start pyting himself as well.

He was miserable not just because his body felt like that. He saw the looks his "friends" and other agents were throwing at him. As if it was a miracle that he was alive. As if he should by all means be dead. The worst thing though was he started to think this as well, and the closeness of death wasn´t doing much for his good mood. While Jack and his team acted mostly normally, though keeping him under watch, there was a person who made Martin´s face frown, even standing in that elevator.

Martin didn´t remember all that well his first week at the hospital - he was talking the truth to Danny earlier that day. He was in a haze of pain and sleep, that combined with several wild dreams. Yeah, Martin knew it was due to the drugs and in a way he was thankful for that. Dealing with his parents wasn´t easy at any time, but being shot at that looked just too much.

But he still remembered hearing voices of his friends. There was Sam, babbling something about how she is sorry for everything, that she will stay with him and she did - she was there almost every day, until Martin started physical therapy and it was clear he won´t keel over and die. Even after that she was visiting him quite often, and at least keeping him in picture of what´s going on in the office.

He also remembered Jack, the words of encouragement that calmed him down in the first moments of waking up - of really coming out of that drugged haze. He was there, standing by his side, his hand on Martin´s shoulder. And it felt more assuring than the doctor talking to him, or the smiles on the nurses´s face. Yes, Jack came when i mattered the most, and even later he dropped by quite often.

There was also Vivian and Martin let the corner of his mouth turn up as he thought about the unhappy faces of the nurse, that wheeled her in. She insisted on coming, when Martin couldn´t. Though they released her in the next week, Martin enjoyed the moments when they could exchange the gossip about the hospital staff, however weird it was. They shared these hours in calm friendship, each one understanding that the other was close death. Each one in pain and facing some kind of pity from their friends. Knowing that, it was easier to deal with it. Everytime Martin had enough of the mothering of Sam or felt like shouting because of the constant mill of colleagues, he mentioned Viv. And suddenly they looked at their watches, mumbled some apology and went to visit her. Martin sometimes felt sorry for her, but the quiet in his room made the remorse vanish.

"Those four weeks, the last few in the physical therapy, Martin had enough visitors. His parents were there and Martin was taken aback by his father, who hugged him and said that he´s proud of him. Martin wasn´t really sure if it was due to the drugs in his system or if it really happened, he just knew that the next day his father had something important to do. From then on, he saw him once in a week and the old Victor Fitzgerald was acting like his former self. No change there and Martin felt a partial relief. At least he knew how to handle the "big ass" Victor, but he had no idea how to handle the caring Victor.

Though he was surrounded by friends and family, there was still one person who didn´t come. And deep inside it hurt.

xxxx

Making his way to the car, Martin didn´t see the man following him. He was too deep in thoughts, and couldn´t care less if there was someone else in the parking lot. Though the place was pretty empty, as it was already after ending hours. Martin didn´t even realize it, but the case, however quickly solved, kept them in the burreau for the late hours. No wonder he felt so tired.

Finally localizating his car, Martin leaned against it for a second. He needed to push back the cobwebs and knew it will take some courage to get in the car. He wouldn´t tell that to anyone - especially not to the psych consult he was earlier pushed to make. But the car spooked him out. Not always and once he was inside and riding it was okay, but when he had to get in, to close the seat belt, he felt the panic creeping back. Gritting his teeth, he pushed from the car, grabbing at his keys. He awkwardly opened the door and get inside the car, throwing the cane on the passenger´s seat with disgust. Once in, he closed the door and put the keys into the starter.

His hand trembled, but he managed to turn on the engine. The radio started playing one of the latest hits from one or the other teenager and Martin leaned back in the seat. He closed his eyes only for a second, but they shot open when the car rocked. And suddenly it wasn´t the parking lot anymore. He was on the street, the other car approaching. Next to his side was Danny and he was grinning, when Martin looked at him, but the grin quickly changed into horror and Martin saw as his partner unconsciously reached for his gun.

"Back, back!" Danny screamed and Martin looked back at the street. He saw the man in the other car, the guns in their hands. He got into reverse, turning the car so Danny wasn´t in the fire line. But he didn´t realise what it meant for him, until the first bullett ripped through his body. Even then he was trying to duck, the adrenaline pushing out the thought of death. Only when the fire stopped and he looked down, seeing the red spreading on his chest, only when he looked up into the eyes of his friend and saw his own horror reflecting there, only then did the pain come.

With a cry Martin shook off the images and blindly graped for the doorhandle, trying to get out. He felt the pull of the seatbelt on his chest and it made him panic more, as it pulled at his still raw injuries. With gasps he managed to open the door, but it was no awail. He couldn´t get out, not with the seatbelt attached and his mind was too confused to think clearly. His heart beat wildly against his chest, making it hard to breath. The images inside his head were back and he remembered the moments after being shot with scaring quality. The disability to breath, the darkness coming for him. The fear in Danny´s face and Martin´s though it would be the last thing he ever saw. But instead of the darkness, the tight on his chest vanished and Martin felt a hand pulling him out of the car.

He stumbled and fell to his knees, as his stomach violently spasmed and he started retching. It hurt his side, and it was worse because there really wasn´t all too much to get out. He skipped the lunch and the bagel from breakfast already vanished in the middle of the case they investigated. Martin grabbed at his side, while the other was on the ground. He felt the supporting hand, holding him up and when he finished, his stomach long ago empty, he took the offered handkerchief. Cleaning his face took him a moment, long enough to realize to whom the handkerchief belonged.

"You okay, Martin?"

Martin looked up, the pain and fatigue clearly written on his face.

"Nothing´s okay," he whispered, throath horse. He pulled from the supporting hand and took several wobbly steps back to his car. But he wasn´t able to get inside just now, so he turned, leaning against the cold metal and slowly slid down, his arms curling around his side.

With a heavy sigh, the other man walked to him, then after a moment slid down next to Martin.

"It´s not... okay, when I.. can´t even get.. into the stupid car," Martin stuttered, trying to control his breathing. "It´s not... okay, if I can´t walk without the damn cane!" he angrilly bumped his head against the car, then looked at the person next to him.

"And it´s not okay, if I think my best friend is hurt or dead."

Danny Taylor looked up, shocked to hear those words.

"What?" he asked, not understanding.

"So what would you think, Danny," Martin spoke, his tone still full of anger and pain, "if you were on my place? Huh? Because I remember how I woke up in that damn hospital, seeing all that shooting and the blood on your face once again. I woke up, and you weren´t there. I couldn´t even ask where the hell you are, if you wasn´t hurt or killed. Then Jack told me you´re allright, but it was hard to believe after another week. Damn hard, Danny!" Martin spat through clenched teeth and closed his eyes, trying to push back the pain - physical and emotional alike.

"S-sorry, I couldn´t. I just couldn´t talk to you, Martin."

Martin shook his head, frustrated and looked back at Danny.

"You should´ve tried, Danny." the words came out more like a sob and Danny felt the need to run. He knew he screwed up, but hell, didn´t he pay for it enough by the nightmares?

"I am sorry, Fitz. I... I was there. Almost every day. But every time I wanted to go through the door, something stopped me. I saw you few times and I couldn´t help but think... it should´ve been me there, not you. Why the hell did you turn that car, huh? Why!" Danny asked, the shame turning into anger. He wasn´t prepared to hear the snort from Martin.

"What? You think I did it to save your sorry ass? You think I turned the car so I would get shot? Don´t be ridiculous, Danny. I would jump into the way of a flying bullett for you, but I´m not that crazy to get in the way of two firing men if I can avoid it. I reacted and turned the car. That´s all. It was a chance. I was hoping to turn the car and get the hell out of there, but it didn´t happen. Just my bad luck."

The two sit there in silence, unnoticed by a passing car. Both thinking about what the other one said.

"You know, I thought you are mad at me," Martin spoke after a while.

"Why?" Danny asked, surprised.

"You didn´t show up. I thought... after Sam assured me you are really alive and well, that-"

"What?" Danny pushed, as Martin paused.

"That you blame me for what happened. That you are mad because I didn´t get us the hell out of there. I don´t know, I just thought it´s my fault."

This time it was Danny who snorted.

"What´s so funny?" Martin asked, a little annoyed that he´s laughed at.

"Nothing. Just... just the fact we were both thinking the other would blame us, while we both thought we are at fault."

"Really funny," Martin said, then smiled. But the smile changed into grimace as his side unmercifully throbbed. Danny saw it and stood.

"Damn it, that ground isn´t the best place to talk. Come on, get up. Jack would kill me if you end up with pneumony or something."

Martin grinned and took the offered hand, groaning as he stood on his stiff legs.

"Yeah man, definitely a stupid place to talk. Uh, that´s gross," he said as he saw the contest of his stomach not far from them.

"Definitely," Danny agreed and looked around, making sure no one saw them. "What about we get something pizza? And I´ll drive you home."

"I can drive-" Martin started but stopped when Danny looked at him, pointedly.

"Yeah, sure you can. But I feel like driving today, and I don´t want to get killed in the process. So get inside and try not to puke."

As he heard the swift curse, Danny smiled and get onto the passenger´s seat. He knew they´re not back to normal, and perhaps never will be. But at least they were healing. He shot a look at Martin, the fatigue still apparrent in his face, but his body wasn´t so tense anymore. When Danny looked at him five minutes later, Martin was fast asleep, his head leaning against the window, softly snoring. Danny smirked and thought about his plan for the night. They still needed to talk, but that can wait. For now it was enough that he drove Martin home, buying some pizza on the way. They didn´t talk much, mostly silently watched the match in the TV. When Martin started drowsing, Danny ushered him to bed. He waited a while, making sure his friend was really sleeping, then took out a pillow and spare blanket and made himself comfortable on the couch. He would be there when the nightmares start and they will talk.


End file.
